"Well I don't know about you, but if I don't get out of all this without some winning lottery numbers, I'm going to be pissed." Tim teased even as he gave Raylan's pinkie an answering squeeze.

He could have rambled on about how it was a natural thing, when you were in the shit, to build 'what if' futures. It was a way to stop the brain from dwelling on the horror of the present, a way to manufacture hope and something to keep fighting towards. When all you wanted to do was lay down and give up in the face of the futility of it all.

But there was something in the way Raylan had changed the subject that suggested the time for such contemplation was passed. That some more internal unpacking needed to happen before any of it saw the light of day. So obviously it was time for some sass.

"I thought you were going somewhere and I was just tagging along."